


Oh, Happy Day

by CaseyF



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Chocolates, Emotions, Established Relationship, Fluff, I wish people still gave real birthday cards, M/M, Schmoop, Songfic, innuendo (duh), novelty gifts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaseyF/pseuds/CaseyF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Turns out that Jack is pretty good at making a birthday something special. Lucky him, Ianto's even better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh, Happy Day

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sinfully sweet Torchwood bit of fluff. You have been warned. I feel like I need to add here that I wrote this for my own amusement, needing some feels-good silliness. When I originally posted the story, someone took time out of their life to tell me in minute detail that the characters in this story were not true to their portrayal on the show. I only wish they were that polite in their phrasing. However, my response to that is: NO DUH. If I wanted Ianto dead and Jack miserable, I wouldn't have needed fanfic! That said, I was surprised myself when Ianto steered this story somewhere I never intended it to go.
> 
> If emoting!Ianto doesn't work for you, imagine him having had a really bad week (you know, nearly getting eaten by cannibals or something) or that a once in a hundred years celestial occurrence amongst the planets has really stirred him up. :) As for sensitive!Jack, maybe he's learned to be a bit more vulnerable?
> 
> Originally posted on fanfiction.net in 2011.

Oh, Happy Day

_____

As Ianto Jones pulled into his parking spot in the Torchwood complex, his eyes fell upon a large envelope glued to the cement wall in front of his car.  Beguilingly placed at a perfect height to catch the observant eye, it featured the letters “I.J.” marked on the front in bold, black capital letters.

Climbing out of his car, he looked around somewhat warily for any observers.  _Someone_ must have wanted to make sure he picked up the envelope, after all.  Although how anyone but the team could have gotten into the secure garage was a bit of a mystery.  If he took things at face value, the envelope could only be from one of his colleagues, but why would they not simply give him whatever it was or leave the envelope on his desk?  Hmmm.  Maybe it was a practical joke?

 _Well, only one way to find out,_ was the rather obvious thought that came to mind.  He made his way to the wall, checked for any obvious signs of things that go boom or explode in your face and cover you in something revolting.  Nothing.  Ianto looked up at the nearest CCTV camera, reassured to see that it was undamaged and appeared to be functioning normally.  Someone in the Hub would likely notice if something happened between the garage alarm pinging on when he entered and a Ianto-no-show.

 _Right, then_.  He pulled the envelope off the wall, fighting a bit with the strong tape which had been used to make sure that it adhered to the cement.  It was a pretty big envelope, and, up close, he could see that it was fairly thick, too.  Nothing to be learned from the block letters his initials were printed in.  No strange smell to set off alarm bells in his mind.  Turning it over, Ianto noticed that the envelope was not sealed, the flap simply inserted under the edge.  Untucking it, he found himself staring at layers of coloured cardstock.

Pulling out the contents, Ianto realized he was holding a stack of greeting cards.  Looked like someone had quite a few thoughts to share and didn’t know how to say them to his face. 

The top card featured a cartoon sketch of a harried looking man in a suit pulling out his hair while a straight-faced impeccably-outfitted butler “tsked” at him with an obsequious air.

Not sure if this was an insult or a pointed reference to his place on the team – and how dare whomever? – he opened the card.

“To the World’s Best (Tourist) Office Manager,” he read, “Happy Birthday!  We’d be a mess without you.  But you knew that.”  The word “tourist” had been inserted above the printed text in Jack’s handwriting and next to a little drawing of the same harried man from the front of the car now kneeling in abject admiration of the butler figure, Jack had scribbled an arrow and written, “I bow in worship to your many talents.” 

 _Amazing,_ Ianto thought. _Jack could make **anything** sound filthy._

Curiosity most definitely piqued, he shuffled the first card to the bottom of the pack and opened the next, which featured a glossy photo of a massive trophy.

“To the World’s Best P.A.,” it said.  Again, Jack had added his own touch:  “I know you’re not my P.A., but I’d be lost without you, Ianto.  At work AND in general.”

 _Awww_ , was the thought that came to mind.  Ianto felt something warm and squishy inside, like his emotions were .... emoting.

Moving on to the third card, Ianto got an eyeful of eye candy – a gorgeous man wearing only an itty-bitty apron and holding a steaming mug of coffee was bending over a little café-style table.  The caption read, “Without you, my days would truly be less ... caffeinated.”

Oh, yes, this was MUCH more Jack’s style in birthday wishes.  His note said, “HB, with a whole latte love.  Hot stuff, you get me all perked up.”

Ianto fell back against the wall laughing.  Jack was too much.  And Ianto loved him for it, all the more because he himself was generally so reserved.  He sometimes thought that he got off on watching Jack just be Jack, so out there and unafraid to ruffle a few feathers.  _Feathers!  His Jack-attuned mind ran off in a few dirty directions ...  Feathers, Jack and feathers.  Oh!  Jack and feathers, maybe a boa._

Christ, he was standing in a parking complex fantasizing about Jack and some feathery sex.  He had it bad.  Drawing a deep breath, Ianto put away the image of Jack and a boa (and maybe a top hat?), and refocused on the cards.

Next up, a simple cartoon of a smiling sun.  What was this?  From titillation to children’s drawings?  In a miniscule font in the bottom right-hand corner of the card was printed, “You are the sunshine of my life.”  Opening it, Ianto found a much longer message than had been in the other cards:

Ianto – wit, smarts, sass, eloquence, courage, nobility, a drool-worthy ass, eyes I get lost and then find myself in, passion, caring on a level that grounds me ... That mouth and the words that come out of it, the feel of it when we kiss, the smile, the way you look with your lips wrapped around my cock ...  Ianto, these are just a few of the things on the list of what I love about you.  Happy birthday, my sunshine in Cardiff.

And now Ianto found himself blinking at the tears which threatened to drop onto some of the most touching words he’d ever read, onto one of the most precious things anyone had ever given him.  From near-poetry to graphic word-porn, oh, yes, Jack certainly had a way with words.

Pushing himself upright, Ianto took his time putting the cards back in the envelope, not to mention getting himself under control.  Then, smiling up at the CCTV camera, he blew it a kiss and headed into the Hub.

Oddly, the Hub seemed to be deserted.  He saw Gwen and Tosh’s handbags on their chairs, but not their jackets.  The team must have been called out on something, although it couldn’t have been major or urgent or he would have been contacted, too.  The light was on in Jack’s office and he could hear Jack’s voice raised in irritation, so Ianto made his way up the stairs and poked his head in only to find the Captain on the phone in the middle of a conversation with someone obviously high-placed and intent on making Jack’s day as miserable as possible.  The look on Jack’s face did not bode well for the poor schlub on the other end of the line and Jack seemed to be squeezing the heck out of the rubber stress-ball in his hand.  As Ianto raised an inquiring eyebrow, Jack shrugged, dropped the stress-ball, raised his middle figure straight up and pointed it aggressively at the phone.

“Asshole,” he mouthed.

Then he pointed at the CCTV monitor on the sideboard-like piece of furniture they’d recently moved into his office.  Smiling now, Jack leaned back in his chair and blew Ianto a kiss.

Feeling better than he’d thought possible, Ianto knew he was smiling like he was daft in the head as he ran easily back downstairs.  Finding that Owen seemed to have begun his day in the medical bay only to join the women for whatever needed doing, he made coffees for Jack and himself.

Back upstairs, he deposited a frothy, steaming mug of aromatic coffee on the desk, leaning down to kiss the top of Jack’s head.  Still on the phone, Jack simply said, “One sec,” to whomever he was listening to and pulled Ianto down for a thorough kiss that lasted a fair bit longer than the alluded to second. 

“Happy birthday, Ianto,” he said softly before returning to his conversation, his eyes filled with what Ianto would certainly have termed smugness, if asked.  Although anyone asking him anything would likely have to wait until he could think clearly again before they’d get a coherent answer out of him.

Jack’s kisses were most distracting and the sexy bastard knew it.  Ianto shook his head a bit, as if that would help to clear the lust, and made his way from Jack’s office to the Tourist Information Centre.  He usually only came up here to get work done when the others were in, as someone invariably needed him to help out with something or the other if he hung around the main Hub.  With them all out, he could simply have used one of the computers down below to get his work done, but Ianto preferred the machine in the Centre, having set it up the way he liked best.  _Jack wasn’t the only one with a private office,_ he thought cheekily.  (Cheeky thoughts came to him much easier these days.)

Flicking on the lights, he opened the window a crack, hoping the breeze would get rid of some of the mustiness.  Turning to boot up the computer, his eyes fell on an exquisitely-wrapped gift box.  There was a Post-It stuck on the desk next to the package and Ianto peered down to see “Open me now” and an arrow pointing to the gift.  Below the arrow Jack had written, “Will you share?”

 _Jack thought he needed to give me **more** than those lovely cards?_   If Ianto hadn’t already known that he was crazy in love with Jack, nothing could have been clearer to him now.

He pulled at the ribbon and the bow fell apart with just that one tug.  Turning to cut the tape on the paper, Ianto realized there was nothing to cut.  No tape, the ribbon had been the only thing keeping the immaculate wrapping-job together.  Genius.  He admired the skill of whomever had done it; Jack sure didn’t have the patience.

As he removed the copper-coloured fancy lid, the smell of chocolate wafted up and into Ianto’s already befuddled brain.  _Oh, my._ This smelled like really good stuff.  He idly wondered if they made chocolate perfume, and then if chocolate smelled better than Jack or if Jack smelled better than chocolate.

Lifting away a protective layer of waxy paper, Ianto was treated to the sight of nine delicious-looking chocolates, each unique.  Strange - there was a tiny piece of yellow paper curled around each morsel.  Ianto picked one at random and prised the paper out.

“ **Ginger & 72% Cocoa,**” it read, “ **Because you spice up my life**.”

Bemused, Ianto tucked the note back next to the appropriate chocolate and pulled out another.

“ **Carnal Caramel** ,” this one was labelled, and, “ **Because you are the sweetest part of my life and I am stuck on you**.”

And Ianto couldn’t help himself, curiosity overcame him.  As fast as he could, he went through the notes. 

“ **Almond Bark- For the bark in your bite.  I love it that you tell me what I need to hear**.”

“ **Mango Truffle – You’re exotic, Ianto, a constant wonder and I love to explore, don’t you know?** ”

“ **Chocolate Chilli Truffle – Hot stuff.  ‘Nuff said.** ”

“ **Double Peanut Cluster – Makes me think of when you’re balls-deep in me**.”  Ianto flushed to think of the person preparing the labels reading this, then he got more hot and bothered at the images the words invoked.  And then he got really flustered at the feelings those images evoked.  He pulled at his shirt cuffs a couple times, straightened his perfectly straight tie and felt a little less ... undone.  Surely Jack had added the labels himself?  Oh, who was he kidding?  For Jack, half the thrill in giving such a gift was imagining Ianto imagining someone else reading these damn – not to mention adorable – labels.

“ **Dark Chocolate Half Walnut” – Got me dreaming of your firm ass.  Also, your brainy brain**."

Snort!  That was Jack all over, wasn’t it?

 **“Milk Chocolate & Custard Auger Shell – Duh.  Penis-shaped with a creamy filling.  So good in my mouth.**”

(Again, Ianto’s face matched his crimson tie.)

“ **Rocky Road Cluster – Everything.  Because you are everything to me.** ”

Ianto leaned against the counter, smiling softly through once-again watery eyes.  He felt all mushy.  Moved.   Loved.  It was ... nice.  Shite, it felt amazing.  He’d thought the cards emotionally blatant, Jack laying his feelings on the line.  This was almost too much.  To be loved this way, with cards and candy and all the thought and work that had gone into them.  Best fucking birthday present ever.  He wanted to kiss Jack forever.  Well, more intensely than he usually wanted to kiss Jack forever.

Wiping his eyes, he turned around and grabbed the pad of Post-Its and a black marker.  Scrawling “Share and share alike,” he held the paper up close to the CCTV.  Of course Jack would be watching, important phone call or not.

_Should I go back up there and throw myself in his arms like the love-struck sod I am?, Ianto asked himself._

“I think not,” he answered himself out loud.  “But tonight is going to be one fucking happy birthday for us both.  Jack Harkness, prepare to be shagged within an inch of your immortal life.  You are so going to need these chocolates for energy, my sweet.”  And Ianto would have sniggered to himself evilly if he had been a villain.  Instead, there was a sappy, nay dopey, grin on his face as he sat down to work.  He didn’t get much done.

_______

The team having had a busy if unremarkable morning (by Torchwood standards, a pair of visiting six-legged purple spider beings who stopped by Earth as a tourist destination in the Milky Way didn’t count for much), Tosh had gone out to pick up some lunch for everyone.  It was Indian food again; Tosh had a crush on the owner of the nearby new Indian place, so if she volunteered to pick up lunch, they all knew that they were in for dahl and rice and the veg of the day.  After lunch, Ianto headed into the kitchen, wondering if his friends would kill him if he made chai instead of coffee.  A nice Indian tea would be in keeping with their lunch, no?

Putting on the kettle to boil, Ianto opened a cupboard to pull out the teapot and the chai mix he’d brought a few weeks back.  _Odd_.  There was a CD in front of him.  Ianto found himself staring at a label with the title “Happy Birthday, My Love.”

Jack again?  This was getting to be overkill.  And Ianto was loving it.  He read:

I was “Dancing with Myself,” lost on the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams,” an “Island in the Stream.”  And “Then There Was You.”  Now “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore.”  “Maybe This Time,” I’ve really found “Somebody to Love.”  I’m not “Alone.”  It’s the “Two of Us” creating “Firework”s.  I feel at “Home,” “Excited,” and that you’re my “One.”  Let’s “Stay” “Stuck in the Moment,” “Forever.”  “Kiss Me, You Fool,” “My Endless Love.”  For “I Will Always Love You.”

And it was signed simply “J.”

By the time he worked out that every phrase in quotation marks was the title of a song, Ianto was nearly a blubbering mess.  He really wanted to throw himself at Jack, for the two of them to have a Hollywood moment.  The rest of the team knew they were sleeping together, so why didn’t he just head back into the conference room and jump Jack? 

He just couldn’t.  Their feelings for each other might have been apparent but some things were private.  He would thank Jack in private, not make a spectacle of himself.  _Shagging the boss notwithstanding, some degree of decorum and professionalism are needed around here,_ Ianto thought.  _Plus, keeping Jack waiting, keeping him wondering if I found the CD, will only get him more worked up._   Taking a deep breath, this time Ianto did allow a little snigger to escape. 

And then he made everyone their tea, going back into the conference room as if nothing had happened, all the while feeling like he’d been taken over by the sappiest love god and wanting to sing out loud that “All we need is love” and strew rose petals about.  He managed to give Jack a fairly normal smile, pretending not to see the rather expectant look on his lover’s face.  In fact, Ianto was so busy being the puddle of distracted mush that Jack’s birthday gifts had turned him into, he failed to notice that there was a cake on the table until Gwen said, “Ianto!  It’s for you, you git.  Blow out the candles already!”

And now here he went with the waterworks again, this time touched by the little celebration his colleagues had put together.  He wished as he blew out the candles – for them all to have long, healthy lives.  The cake was way too big for their small group, so Ianto served them each truly enormous slabs before Tosh placed a small envelope in his hand and kissed his cheek saying, “just some tie money from all of us.”

The gift certificate to one of his favourite haberdasheries was a perfect choice for Ianto and he appreciated their thoughtfulness, thanking the girls with hugs and kisses.  Owen tried to ward him off, but Ianto was having none of it today; he grabbed Owen in a hug and then planted a big kiss on the doctor’s cheek, just for good measure.  As Tosh and Gwen giggled at Owen’s red face, Ianto turned to Jack, who was smiling as he observed his team enjoying a brief moment of fun and relaxation. 

Ianto walked to stand before Jack, close enough that his tie nearly swiped the icing off the cake on the plate in Jack’s hand.  Moving slightly to the side, Ianto sidestepped the plate and slid his hand around Jack’s neck.  “Thank you, Jack,” he said and although it was clear Jack was wondering if he was being thanked for the personal gifts he’d lavished on Ianto or for his contribution to the gift certificate, Ianto didn’t let him speak.  He leaned in to kiss Jack, intending to keep it a brief touch of their lips.  But Jack plus cake was a scrumptious combination and Ianto ended up slipping his tongue into Jack’s welcoming mouth. 

 _Lord love a duck,_ he thought and then every thought, all his good intentions fled as Jack reciprocated.  When he came up for air – and how he hated having to do so – Ianto thought his legs might give way.  Jack was like the strongest aphrodisiac to him, it was ridiculous.  How lovely that he seemed to have as potent an impact on Jack or else it really would be unfair.  Trying to catch his breath, he moved away from Jack a bit, letting his hand drop.  Jack’s pupils were dilated, his lips wet, and Ianto almost let himself lean in to pick up where they’d left off.

“Jazsus,” he heard Owen’s voice as if from far away.

 _Well, there went decorum and professionalism._ Knowing he was blushing for the umpteenth time that day, Ianto sucked it up and turned to face his friends’ ribbing.  Oddly enough, there wasn’t any.

Instead, Owen was looking from Ianto to Jack and if he hadn’t known better, Ianto would have said that there was jealousy in the regard.  Not of Ianto, not of Jack, but of what they had.  Owen was lonely.  Ianto felt his heart soften towards the acerbic young doctor.  Love lives and Torchwood didn’t mix and Ianto was beyond lucky to have Jack, he knew.  They needed to be careful not to flaunt their relationship in front of the others; it wasn’t fair.  He looked up at Jack again and saw the same understanding reflected in Jack’s blue eyes.  Nodding, Ianto turned to pick up his own plate of cake but stopped as he caught Tosh and Gwen both staring at him.

And he had thought his face couldn’t feel any hotter. 

“What?” he asked, maybe a bit too forcefully. 

And they both seemed a bit abashed.  Gwen just muttered something under her breath about needing to cool off and, grabbing her plate of cake, left the room.  Tosh watched her go, then turned to see that Ianto was waiting for an answer. 

Owen took a mug of tea off the tray Ianto had brought in and he, too, headed off to be elsewhere.  Jack just took a seat, legs up on the table, plate of cake on his belly.

Tosh seemed somewhat at a loss for words, looking up wide-eyed at Ianto.  She gave a little shrug.

“It’s just ...,” and her words faded off.  Trying again she squared her shoulders and said, “Well, you know, you and Jack ....  That is ...  Ianto, it’s nothing bad, what we were thinking Gwen and me ....”  And at this point, Tosh stopped talking, gave him a quick hug and nearly ran out of the room.

Baffled, Ianto pivoted to see if Jack had any input as to what he had done to piss off the two women.  But Jack just smiled at him around a mouthful of cake.  Sighing, Ianto dropped into the chair next to Jack and leaned forward, elbows on table, chin on his hands.  “What did I do, Jack?  Why are Tosh and Gwen ticked at me?”

And Jack sputtered cake all over the table, laughing and almost choking.  Not that that would matter.  Death by cake would probably be one of the better deaths he had lived through.

 _Right_ , Ianto thought, _love me but laugh at me, eh?_   His birthday seemed to be going downhill and taking his expectations of a rowdy evening with Jack with it.

Jack sat up, putting his plate on the table where his feet had been.  “Ianto, they’re not angry with you,” he said.

“What?  Jack, of course they are.  You saw it – they couldn’t even talk to me!”

And Jack was going to get it if he didn’t stop shaking his head in that rather condescending “don’t you get it, young man?” manner.

“Ianto, not everyone turns a delightful shade of red when they’re embarrassed,” Jack replied with a teasing smile. 

“ **I** was the one making out with the boss,” Ianto huffed.  “Why would **they** be embarrassed?”

At least there weren’t any cake crumbs spewing as Jack laughed this time.

“That **was** a fantastic notion, Ianto.  I don’t think I’ve ever mixed a cake and a kiss before, but you can bet your sweet delectable ass that we are going to put the rest” – and he nodded at the remaining cake – “to good use.  Speaking of-,” and Jack speared a huge mouthful of cake on his fork, offering it to Ianto.  “Let me return the favour.  Open wide.” 

And Ianto couldn’t help but laugh.  He ducked the cake but, then, seeing the devilish gleam in Jack’s eyes, as usual, he just couldn’t help himself.  Most of the time, it paid in spades to go along with Naughty Jack.  Leaning forward, he let Jack feed him the cake, their gazes holding and turning the silly moment somehow into something deeper, more, meaningful.

Relaxed again, Ianto savoured the cake. 

“Good, huh?” Jack asked, as usual managing to inflect extra meaning into an innocuous question.

Ianto just nodded and opened his mouth to accept the next piece of cake from Jack’s fork.  This time, Jack played dirty.  It was pretty much his strongest natural ability, after all.  The piece he offered Ianto was coated in thick chocolate icing and Jack “accidentally” smooshed it around Ianto’s mouth.

Ianto’s hand came up to steady Jack’s, to hold it still so he could get the bite of cake and not icing lipstick.  He knew damn well Jack’s hand needed no steadying, that Jack was doing exactly what he had set out to do.  But Jack was not going to get another cake kiss now.  Tonight, he could have as many as he wanted.  But right now, Ianto was going to try to reinstill that notion of office decorum.

First though, to get rid of this icing.  Slipping the fork from Jack’s hand, he brought it up to his mouth, then turned his head to rub the icing onto Jack’s palm.  Fixing his gaze on Jack’s, Ianto slowly licked at the icing, using his tongue to clean little circles of Jack’s palm. 

Unsurprisingly, Jack moaned in enjoyment.  Even more unsurprisingly, once the icing was gone, Jack slipped his fingers into Ianto’s mouth. 

 _This was not appropriate decorous workplace behaviour at all._   Ianto couldn’t help but wonder for the Nth time where his control went when it came to Jack.  Working his throat and mouth muscles, he sucked at Jack’s fingers, not the least amazed at the things he found himself doing at work these days.  But really, they had all night.  Sure, he was hard enough now to want to push Jack onto the floor and slide his cock into Jack’s no doubt still cake-tasty mouth.  And he wouldn’t really have minded if Jack tried to get him naked right now.  Not really.

 _But, no_ , Ianto said to himself.  _Tonight_.

Steadfast now, sure of his plan, he let Jack’s fingers slip from his mouth with a noise that was both obscene and sexy as hell.  Like Jack.

Who slumped back into his chair, chest heaving.  Their eyes never leaving the other’s, the two men just stared at each other while they tried to get themselves under control.

Jack was shaking his head, smiling wonderingly.  “Ianto, this is what had the girls all out of sorts.  Don’t you see?  You and me ....  Two guys making out?  Don’t you get it?”

And a little light went off in Ianto’s usually oh-so-perceptive brain. 

“Christ, they were turned on!!!”

“Oh, yeeeeah,” Jack replied with a leer.  “Rhys is going to have some real fun tonight.”

“Eeew, jeez, Jack, don’t put those images in my head.”  Ianto didn’t want a naked Gwen in his head.  But he was relieved that she and Tosh weren’t upset.  Although, if he and Jack kissing had gotten to them, then the chances were pretty damn near a hundred percent that both women had images of a naked Jack and a naked Ianto in their heads.  Ewwww.

As he opened his mouth to ask Jack about how he should handle the situation, Jack’s phone rang.  _Back to business, then._   Ianto would figure something out, no doubt, now that he knew what had happened.  _Not exactly your standard office politics._   As Jack answered what sounded like a call from U.N.I.T., Ianto picked up the cake to put away for later.  _Best birthday ever and it wasn’t over yet.  I am a lucky sod, he thought, and I am sooo gonna get even luckier tonight!_

__________

 

The Rift had left them in peace for the remainder of what turned out to be an amazingly productive day.  Apparently lust could be channelled into paperwork, as Gwen and Tosh churned through a backlog of reports and memos, cleaning up stuff and responding to requests from the other organizations Torchwood worked with.  Honestly, for a secret agency, everyone seemed to have their email addresses.  _Might as well set up a Facebook page,_ Ianto thought.  _Maybe a Twitter account – Just hauled in a Weevil!  Will post a pic as soon as he’s conscious!  Cheeerist._

Though they’d probably get more friends than U.N.I.T. would. 

Owen seemed to be deep in a research project.  He kept conference calling Martha Jones and asking her questions like, “Do you see that dangly bit next to what looks like the liver?  I think it’s meant to produce and store the venom ...  What do you reckon?”

All in all, it was one of the better days the team had had in quite some time.  Five o’clock came ‘round and every one took off, Gwen no doubt to give Rhys a night he would only expect on *his* birthday.  Ianto wondered a bit about how come they weren’t all heading out for a drink to celebrate his birthday but they’d done the lunch and cake thing, after all.  Right.  Maybe if he hadn’t snogged the life out of Jack (ha!) earlier and things weren’t so awkward, maybe then he would have made the suggestion.  Better to let things be as they were.

Tosh had finished up with a truly bizarre artifact, basically labelling it as “We don’t have the technology to figure this out, have someone look at in a few years.”  Ianto headed down to the Archives to store it away properly.  Their “we have no clue” section was getting bigger.  He hoped that it was safe to put all these things together in the same place.  Who knew? 

Placing the item in the specially-designed storage cupboard (and really, was Retconning every service provider the answer?), Ianto turned to fill out the chart of catalogue information he kept on the little desk near the door.  _Hmmm, one more item to go and I’ll have to enter this page into the system_ ... he made a mental note.

Straightening up, he noticed something on the floor, partially hidden under the desk.  _Odd_. 

Another card.  It must have been on desk when he came in.  He supposed that the ends of his suit coat had swiped it onto the floor as he reached up to enter the combination to the secure storage cupboard.

There was a smiley face doodled on the envelope.  _Safe to say it was more of a leering face,_ Ianto thought.  Pulling the card out, he turned it over - “Christ on a cracker!!!” Ianto couldn’t prevent the exclamation from bursting out of his mouth.

“Acker, acker, acker” echoed around the stone walls of the Archives as Ianto stood there, half laughing and half gasping.  Jack was too much.  Jaysuz, TOO much!

And Ianto gave into the laughter.  The image on the card, after all, gave a whole new meaning to “too much”: Jack, in all his glory, hands on hips, and very, VERY, aroused.  It was a musical card, a tinny melody piping out of the little device behind the card.  Printed below the oh-so-memorable photo of Jack were the words “You raise me up.”

_________

It was 6:30pm.  _Where the hell was Ianto?  Why hasn’t he come to find me?  Why are we not “happy birthdaying” the crap out of this place?_

Jack was becoming a little concerned.  The others had cleared out, everyone knew that he and Ianto would be happily occupied tonight.  Just thinking of kissing Ianto, of the cake that was left over from earlier got Jack going.  Ianto was like a drug to his system.  Long life, a few special loves, even his feelings for the Doctor, none of it came close.  One of the great mysteries of life and Jack knew he’d never figure out how this love stuff worked, why one person just did it for you while another didn’t.  And he’d reached the stage in his existence where he just didn’t give a damn.  Sometimes, you just have to go with the flow, accept things the way they are and appreciate them while you have them.

He did his best not to think about just how many years he’d have with Ianto.  That way craziness lay.  But he kept putting out feelers, seeing if anyone knew of a means by which either Ianto’s life could be extended or his, Jack’s, finally returned to a human normal span.  Again, he tried not to think about it.

Maybe he’d overdone it with his birthday gifts?  Maybe he’d scared Ianto off?  Too much, too soon?  He’d never enjoyed a birthday so much, the ideas for the presents had just come to him and he’d felt like a kid in a candy shop preparing them.  He’d had to force himself to go through with the plan to spring the gifts in little separate surprises, so badly had he wanted to see Ianto’s reactions.  _CCTV is a godsend._

But he’d missed seeing what happened in the Archives.  He’d been lost in some ridiculous budget-related email from the PMO’s office when he realized how late it was.  Surely Ianto had found that last gift?  _But if so, I repeat,_ Jack said to himself, _where the hell is he?  Why am I still sitting here at my desk instead of naked and panting out his name?_

He could only think that by baring his heart and soul, he’d sent Ianto running for the hills.  But he seemed fine earlier.  _Really fine, frickin’ normal, my butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth love.  And why would the “sexy” card set him off if the serious ones didn’t?_

Staring into space, a flicker caught his eye.  Focusing in on his computer screen, Jack realized that the instant messenger window was flashing at the bottom of the monitor and likely had been for some time.  He clicked on it to find a message from Ianto sent at just after 5pm:  **When can you meet my sister?**

 _Bugger_.  He’d missed the message.  _Bloody budget email,_ Jack thought snarkily.  _But, his sister?  His sister?  Why does he want me ....?_   And the light dawned – far from being scared away by Jack’s birthday gifts, Ianto was reciprocating, inviting Jack to meet the important people in his life, starting with his sister.

Poor Ianto was probably somewhere freaking out that Jack hadn’t responded to his IM.

“Not sure Josh Groban meant his song quite that way,” came a quiet voice from the doorway.

_Or not._

Jack looked up to see a smiling Ianto, leaning against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, tie undone.

 _What you do to me,_ Jack thought.  He pushed his chair back from the desk just as Ianto stepped in and leaned down, hands on the armrests, and Jack found himself a prisoner in his seat.  Yum.  He titled his face up for the kiss he fully expected to receive, only to realize that Ianto was kneeling now, kneeling between Jack’s spread legs.

Knowing full well that he was sporting his shit-eating grin, Jack said, “Well, it looks like YOU took it *that* way, too, Ianto.   If your current position means anything.  Not that I’m complaining.”  And he leaned back, enjoying the view.

Ianto ran his hands up Jack’s thighs, leaning in, and Jack’s eyes widened. Was he really going to get a blowjob here at his desk?  Next time he had to listen to the prime minister whine on about something, he’d sure have some distracting memories to keep him occupied.  He really ought to give Ianto chocolate more often! And flowers.  Shit!  He’d forgotten the flowers.

Ianto cocked his head up at him, a sneaky smile turning his face into an enigmatic lure to Jack.

“Jack ....,” Ianto drew out the name, “thank you for the gifts.” And he slid his hands around to caress Jack’s back, resting his elbows on Jack’s thighs.

“You’re welcome,” Jack cut in, shifting his hips in anticipation.

“I’m not finished,” Ianto moved to place a finger over Jack’s lips.  Being Jack, he kissed the finger and then sucked it into his mouth.  It took Ianto a moment to get back on track but, after all, he was used to Jack’s “harassment,” so with his libido getting exactly the ideas Jack wanted it to get, Ianto persevered.  “I have lots to say about the gifts, Jack.  BUT, you, Mr. Music Man, do you know this one?”

And Ianto sang softly, “It’s a beautiful night.  We’re looking for something dumb to do.  Hey, baby, I think I want to marry you.”  He shifted on his knees, raised his other hand to cup the side of Jack’s neck and said simply, “marry me, Jack.”

Right then and there, Jack felt his long life, his long existence, come together.  Everything made sense all of a sudden and he wondered at how silly he’d been up until now.  Of course, he wasn’t actually THINKING right then.  There was nothing but feeling, he was nothing but feeling and he’d never known anything like this, anything so fundamentally *right*.

_______

Jack let Ianto’s finger pop out of his mouth.  The man could make anything obscene.  Or more obscene, as the case might be.  And Ianto loved him for it.  Jack expressed a part of himself he hoped to let out to play one day.  Until then, he would let Jack do it for him.

Jack looked gobsmacked.  Ianto wasn’t sure he could carry on if he’d just fucked up what they had.  _What was I thinking?!?  Marriage will freak him out.  Oh, shit, shit, shit._

A hand moved up to cover his own where it rested on Jack’s neck.  Jack wrapped his fingers around Ianto’s, then slid the fingers of his other hand through Ianto’s hair, pulling him closer.  As usual, it was a passionate kiss, not to say extremely stimulating and he ended up nearly climbing up Jack to get ... more.

And then Jack leaned back, panting happily, grinning that patented shit-eating grin that always got Ianto (more) hot and bothered. 

“Absolutely,” he declared emphatically.

By the time Ianto’s conscious brain had remembered the question he’d asked, the rest of his being was already busy being happy, happy like a puppy, happy like he’d never known he could be, not even after Jack’s gifts earlier in the day had made him.  If he’d had a tail, he’d have been wagging it. 

Oh, well, nothing for it but to ... snog Jack senseless.  Or maybe Jack was snogging him senseless.  Whatever.  Kissing Jack was a very absorbing activity.  Why, one could lose oneself ....

“Again, Jack,” Ianto heard himself whisper hungrily God-knows-how-long-later.

“Again, what, love?”

“The tongue thing.  What you did ...”

The next time they paused for air, Ianto was across Jack’s lap, Jack was flushed a most endearing pink colour, and one of his hands was stroking Ianto’s nipples, Ianto’s shirt having been pulled from its nicely tucked home in his trousers by an enthusiastic, rough tug that had them both moaning in anticipation.

Best birthday ever.  And they still had their clothes on.  Panting as if they’d been chasing a Weevil, the two men grinned at each other loopily.  And that’s how Tosh found them.

As she back-tracked out of the office, Jack called out to stop her.  “Tosh, wait!  It’s OK.  We’re not doing anything.”  And here he scratched his nails over Ianto’s left nipple.  “Come in.”

Ianto “grrrred” and pulled on Jack’s hair, but he didn’t move.  Couldn’t be bothered.  Turned out that cloud nine was in Jack’s lap after they’d agreed to be each other’s partner in everything life had to offer.  He smiled at Tosh, who moved slowly back towards them, eyes looking anywhere but at the two men.

“Tosh, have you wished my fiancé happy birthday?” Jack asked in a manner befitting a circus ringleader with a particularly fine show ahead.

Ianto had to laugh a bit at Tosh’s expression - bad enough seeing your boss and co-worker slash friend having a moment at work, but what to say when your boss will be your co-worker slash friend’s husband and your co-worker slash friend’s husband is your boss?  He didn’t think they made greeting cards for the occasion (Though Jack seemed to have sources ...).  Poor Tosh.  Here he sat, happy as puppy on Jack’s lap, even though he’d told himself not to rub their relationship in the team’s face earlier.  He almost wished Jack had kept their news to themselves.  Almost.  

Why shouldn’t they share their happiness?  Maybe it would inspire Owen to get his shit together and take another look at Tosh.

Poor Tosh.

________ 

 _They look so happy.  And hot_ , if she was honest with herself.  It was rare to see either man so relaxed and at peace.  The world needed more of that.  Torchwood needed more of that.  _I need more of that_ , Tosh sighed to herself.

Although it was sure hard to know where to look.  Tosh had had no idea that Ianto could relax THIS much.  He’d nestled into Jack, nuzzling his neck even as Jack placed kisses on his lover’s hair.  _Ahhhh_ , Tosh felt all warm and gooey inside.  And that didn’t count the stirrings in her lady parts.  Crikey, but these two generated some heat.  They had her saying things like “lady parts.”

Time to get the phone she’d forgotten on her desk – cleaning up doesn’t always mean you can keep track of things – and get out of here.  Thank god for vibrators and a good imagination.  Her visit to the Indian take-away would be coming in handy ....

“Did I hear the word “fiancé”?” Gwen’s voice came from the door.  “Who’s getting married, then?  Not that I can show them *my* wedding photos or anything ....”  Her voice fizzled out as she took in the sight of Jack and Ianto cuddled together in Jack’s chair, Ianto’s legs thrown over the armrest, the two men fairly much lost in their own bubble.  She shared a startled look with Tosh (who had to wonder if Gwen had ears like a bat to have heard Jack say “fiancé” when Gwen had surely been nowhere near the office), but Gwen was nothing if not a reservoir of aplomb.  She’d learned a thing or two from Ianto it seemed.

“Right.  Civil ceremony, then,” she stated, turning around to bellow, “Owen!  Get up here and congratulate these two on their engagement!”

The volume startled Jack and Ianto a bit and they turned from each other to see Tosh now grinning down at them and Gwen smirking, hands on her hips.

“Dabble, my fine arse,” she said, which, of course, only Ianto understood. 

_______

 _And how did Martha and Gwen find time enough together to gossip about Jack and me?_ , Ianto asked himself.  Women.

“It is a fine ass, isn’t it?” Jack whispered in his ear.  “And so is Tosh’s.  Not that I want anyone else’s ass – I’ve got yours to play with,” he finished and pecked Ianto on the lips.

“I thought today was Ianto’s *birthday,*” Owen was saying as he came up the stairs.  “What’s this about an engagement?”  He stopped at the doorway – and wasn’t that seeing a lot of action today? – just as Jack’s hand moved underneath Ianto’s shirt and Ianto squirmed at the touch.  Own turned a sort of interesting mélange of colours, while Gwen and Tosh giggled at his discomfort.

“Well, it’s not the kind of thing one expects at work, now is it?!?” he yelled.

“Owen, we work for Torchwood Three with Captain Sexy-Pants Jack Harkness,” Gwen said as if speaking to a simpleton.  “We’re lucky he wasn’t up here shagging a Weevil.”

“Hey!  Still your boss!” Jack responded a bit firmly, although having his hand under Ianto’s shirt didn’t quite lend itself to authoritarian edicts.  Ianto cuddled in his lap didn’t help either.

“And if he was shagging a Weevil, I’d have seen the scratches,” Ianto added a bit muzzily.

“Not helping,” Jack told him.

“Wasn’t trying to,” Ianto rejoined.

“Well, Jack,” Tosh put in, “if you ever forget Ianto’s birthday or your engagement anniversary, you’re dead.  Well, not dead after all.  But you won’t get any coffee forever, so might as well be dead.”

“I’m sure Ianto will remind me not to forget,” Jack suggested as he nudged Ianto’s hair with his nose.

“You’re a big boy, Jack.”  Ignoring Jack’s raised eyebrows as he read innuendo into Ianto’s words (it came as easily as breathing to Jack), Ianto continued, “you remembered my birthday today, so I’m sure you won’t need my help to remember in the future.”  And he shifted slightly (and meaningfully), in Jack’s lap, smirking as Jack’s pupils dilated and he growled playfully at Ianto.

“Right.  Congrats, then,” Owen muttered.  “Leave you to it.  Whatever.  Er, happy birthday, mate.”  And he left.  He knew he should have just gone home tonight.  Stopping ‘round the pub for a pint before coming back to see if Martha had emailed in that scan was daft.  Not urgent after all.  And why wasn’t Gwen home screwing her husband?  He didn’t question Tosh being back at work; she was like him in the end – no life besides Torchwood.  Fuck those two and their happy ending.

Both women stayed, not budging one iota until Jack looked up all too knowingly at them.  “Care to join in the celebrations, ladies?” he inquired suavely.  “We can move this to the couch ....”

This resulted in rather inane giggles from both, neither of whom was entirely sure if Jack was serious or not.  His reputation, after all, spanned worlds.  He could broaden their horizons in some no doubt spectacular ways.  Throw Ianto into the fray, and Ianto and Jack together, and Tosh and Gwen were on the cusp of a new dimension.  So said the glances they exchanged.

“Ahem,” Ianto’s smooth tones interrupted their sizzling imaginings.  “Jack, as always, is kindness itself.  But, if you don’t mind, Weevils and foursomes will not be happening today.”

“Some other day, Yan?” Jack asked innocently. “Though, honestly, I can do without the Weevils.”

“You were the one who said that I was a wonder to you, Jack.  Who knows what wonders await us?”  Oh, Ianto was much better at playing innocent that Jack was.

And just like that, Jack’s hands were in his hair, his tongue in Ianto’s mouth and they forgot all about the girls.

Who decided that maybe they weren’t really ready for this after all and, darting glances back at the embracing couple, managed to get their feet headed towards the stairs.

And down the stairs.  _Banisters are good things_ , was just one of the deep thoughts which occurred to Tosh as she followed Gwen into the kitchenette.

“Lord!  Rhys was pissed I had to come back because I forgot to sign that release form the Secretary needed ASAP, but I bet he’ll be thanking God later on!”  Gwen drank down the tall glass of cold water she’d filled.

“I might go to the gym,” Tosh muttered.  “Or maybe do something else ... physical.”

“Tosh, I *am* sorry,” Gwen apologized.  “I hate it that you and Owen aren’t ....  Oh, I’m just making this worse, aren’t I?”

“Gwen, you don’t have to apologize for being happy, for having Rhys.  I would never want you to feel that way.  There’s just .... moments, you know?”

“Aye, I know.” 

And the two women shared a minute of silence, leaning back against the counters.

“Mind you, those two sure gave us a lot of memories to fuel whatever, didn’t they?” Gwen finally asked in a very naughty tone. 

And Tosh couldn’t help laughing along.  “I’ve got a verrrry good memory and an even better imagination!”

 ______

Jack knew he had lost it a bit, pulling aggressively at Ianto’s head, fusing their mouths together, enjoying even the feel of Ianto’s teeth as the kiss moved into rougher territory.  He got both his arms under Ianto’s shirt, pulling him in tighter.

Murmurs, sighs, moans, and little mews of pleasure were interrupted by the squeaking of the chair.  After all, it was designed for stillness, not passion.

Jack lifted his head, only to lower it to Ianto’s neck, where he proceeded to inflict a serious hickey.  Laving the mark with his tongue, he kissed it softly before looking up at his fiancé.

“Marked me, did you?” Ianto asked lazily, not quite his usual on-the-ball self.

“Property of Jack Harkness,” Jack confirmed.  “Best thing in my life.  All of my lives.”  He carded a hand softly though Ianto’s brown hair then murmured little “shushing” sounds when he saw tears in Ianto’s eyes.

“Yan?  Tears?”

Ianto drew in a deep breath before answering.  “The things you say, Jack,” he started and stopped to breathe again.  “The ... things you wrote in the cards, the chocolates, the songs.  You just ...  You just put it all out there.  It’s so brave of you!  And it means so bloody much.  It actually hurts.  To feel this much, to have it ... shite.  What I mean is – I’ve never felt like this and you make me feel it.  And I can’t stop turning into a fucking watering pot today!” 

The words stopped coming and Ianto was left looking into the face he loved so much, hoping that Jack got it, knew what he was trying to convey.

Jack was smiling that “old” smile of his, the one with the wisdom of the ages he sometimes drew up from somewhere.

“You like it, right, Yan?” he asked, smoothing a thumb across the tears on Ianto’s cheek.

There was only one answer to that and Ianto gave it with a passion he didn’t often allow himself in speech:  “Christ, Jack.   It’s brilliant.  You KNOW I love it.  I love being with you.  I love how you make me feel.  I love that you told me all about how you feel.  I ... I hope I don’t let you down, mess this up.  I’m a bit scared.  Nothing ... Lisa, my own life ...., nothing’s mattered to me this much ....”  Ianto needed to breathe again, needed to look away.  How much of yourself could you reveal before the person looking realized that there wasn’t much there to look at?

“Shush ...  Easy, Ianto.  I ...,” Jack needed a breath this time.  “I don’t have all the answers, Yan, but ... I love you.  The way you are.  There’s nothing and no one else I want you to be.  Just you.  And you *are* brave and strong enough to do this, to get involved with a guy from another world, another culture, another century, a guy with so much baggage ....  Only you can handle this, Yan.  Only you can handle me.  And, of course, I mean that in every way possible,” he broke off to lick Ianto’s lips suggestively. 

It was a horrible pun.  Ianto loved it.

He didn’t stop himself from taking what he wanted, he opened his mouth and took Jack’s tongue, sucking gently as both men enjoyed the heat and pressure.  Jack moaned and pulled back, drawing yet another breath before he looked at Ianto gazing somewhat shyly down at him

“Done with the tears and doubt, then,” Jack commented.

“Done with ruining-,” Ianto began.

“Wait.” The tone was so serious that Ianto feared he actually had ruined the moment.  “Not ruining.  Never ruining.  Talk is **good** , Ianto.  That’s pretty much one thing I’ve learned through the years.  We have to talk to each other, especially about the shitty stuff, what we’re scared of.  More moments are ruined by not talking, Yan.  I know I’m going to hurt you sometimes because I’m not good at the talking stuff.  You’re going to have to remind me that we have to talk, OK?  You’re good at kicking my ass when I need it.  I told you in the chocolates – thank you for that.  I may not like it as much as when you’re KISSING my ass, but ....”

Relief, followed by more love, that was what Ianto felt thrumming through his being.  He was really a proper grown up now, having a grown up conversation, engaged to spend his life with someone else while they practiced being grownups together.  Talk about a watershed birthday.

“I’ll put it on our “to-do” list, Jack.  Maybe we can add it to “find a place to live,” “arrange ceremony,” “introduce Jack to my family,” “feed Weevils.....”

Jack was laughing.  He tipped their heads together for a soft kiss.  “I left a song off that CD, Yan,” he said.

“Oh?” Ianto asked, as expected.

“Yeah.  “My Life Would Suck Without You,”” Jack replied.

To which Ianto could only snort.  Then he came up with, “More like you’d be “Livin’ on a Prayer.”

“Nice one!  I thought you’d say something about sucking.”

“I leave the double entendres to you.”

“No, you don’t.  I love your filthy mind as much as I love this ass of yours,” Jack grabbed the ass in question.  Ianto wiggled it around.

“Jack, let’s get back to “You Raise Me Up...,” he suggested.

“I have **got** to send Josh Groban a thank you letter,” Jack managed to get out before their mouths met again.

He swept his palms up his fiancé’s back, turning Ianto further into his chest.  Ianto opened the top button of Jack’s shirt, lifted his head a bit and said, “Jack, I’ve got one for you....”

“I can feel that,” Jack replied, “I like it.”

“Not that.  Well, *that*,” Ianto clarified, “but I meant I’ve got a song.”

Jack released Ianto’s earlobe just long enough to ask, “song?”

“Yeah.  “Love Hurts”,” Ianto said and scraped his teeth along Jack’s neck before making a mark of his own. Jack’s yelp was most satisfying.  So was the glazed look on his face when Ianto raised his head to take in the sight of Jack lost in a haze of lust.

It was too much.

Ianto moved in for a kiss and they indulged in their patented lost-in-each-other’s-mouths act for a bit.

_Truly, the best birthday ever._

Eventually, Ianto drew back a few inches and they panted at each other, recovering, his hands keeping a firm hold on Jack’s tousled hair, as Jack kept a firm hold on as much of Ianto’s skin as he could.

“You are the tastiest morsel,” Jack panted out.

“I don’t know that one,” Ianto gasped back, “can you hum a few bars?”

_______

Down below in the Hub, the girls, who were stilling fanning themselves off, turned to look up at Jack’s office as his laughter rang out.  Down in his med bay, Owen grumbled, “That better have been a laugh and not an orgasm.  Bloody Jack Harkness and his tea-boy.”

 ****

****

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
